Legal aid must deepen, not drift

IN November, India observes National Legal Services Day — an annual reminder that justice, in a constitutional democracy, must be accessible to all, not merely to those who can afford it. Since the Legal Services Authorities Act came into force in 1995, the country has built one of the world’s largest state-supported legal aid systems. Its reach today is immense: over 44 lakh people have received free legal aid and advice in the last three years; 23.58 crore disputes have been settled through Lok Adalats in that same period; and more than 2 crore citizens have accessed Tele-law and DISHA’s digital legal support services. These figures, while remarkable, prompt a deeper reflection. They tell us how much the system does—but not always how well it performs.

The central question for India in 2025 is therefore not whether legal aid exists, but whether it delivers justice in a way that is consistent, comprehensible and fair. The system’s breadth is no longer in doubt; what the next decade must secure is its depth.

To its credit, India’s legal aid framework has undergone significant evolution. The traditional barriers that kept people from approaching the justice system—distance, cost, illiteracy and complexity—have been reduced by an infrastructure that is present in every district, increasingly digitised, and far more responsive than it once was. Applications for aid can be made online; decisions often arrive within a week; and many beneficiaries receive not only representation in court but pre-litigation advice, counselling or assistance through para-legal volunteers. This shift signals a more holistic vision of legal aid: not merely free lawyers, but an ecosystem of support.

But as with any large-scale public service, expansion brings both opportunity and strain. District Legal Services Authorities, the frontline institutions, face substantial variation in capacity. Some have well-trained panels and active community outreach; others struggle with budget constraints, high caseloads or insufficiently trained lawyers. The risk is that a system intended to equalise opportunity may inadvertently replicate regional inequities. For a person seeking help, justice should not depend on where they live. Strengthening quality control, standardising training, and introducing transparent evaluation mechanisms will be essential in moving towards a more consistent national standard.

Lok Adalats deserve particular scrutiny. Their success has become emblematic of India’s appetite for fast, low-cost dispute resolution. Settling more than 23 crore cases in three years is an administrative achievement unparalleled in scale. For countless litigants—particularly those dealing with small civil disputes, utility bills or motor accident claims—Lok Adalats offer a welcome escape from the delays of formal courts. But such speed invites caution. Lok Adalats are fundamentally compromise-based forums. The efficiency they promise must not overshadow the need for settlements that are truly voluntary and informed. In high-volume scenarios, especially where litigants lack legal literacy, subtle pressure to settle can occur. Preserving the legitimacy of this model requires better pre-settlement counselling, consistent monitoring of outcomes, and the development of specialised Adalats that match mediator expertise with the nature of disputes. If India refines these safeguards, Lok Adalats can continue to be a model that the rest of the world studies with admiration rather than scepticism.

Criminal legal aid, meanwhile, remains one of the system’s most pressing responsibilities. The Legal Aid Defence Counsel System (LADCS), now operational in more than 660 districts, signals a shift towards a structured public defender framework. Nearly eight lakh criminal cases have been disposed of through LADCS over two years—no small contribution in a country where pre-trial detention remains a chronic issue. The premise is simple: a constitutional democracy cannot justify a situation in which liberty is determined by one’s ability to afford representation. LADCS, if well supported, can help correct this imbalance. But to do so, it requires sustained investment in training, manageable caseloads, and institutional independence. Defence lawyers must have the time and resources to investigate cases, consult clients, and argue effectively—not merely to process files. Without this, the promise of LADCS risks thinning into procedural formality rather than substantive justice.

Technology has opened a new chapter in access to justice. The DISHA programme and Tele-law services have widened frontiers for millions who would otherwise remain outside the legal system: women dealing with domestic disputes, migrant workers facing wage theft, senior citizens confronting property issues, and young people unsure of how to navigate police procedures. The demographic distribution of Tele-law users—nearly equal participation of women and high uptake across disadvantaged communities—suggests genuine social reach. Yet technology is not a universal solution. Digital exclusion remains a real barrier, especially in rural and remote areas. Effective delivery therefore depends on the hybrid model India has cultivated: digital tools supported by human intermediaries such as para-legal volunteers, panchayat officials, and community facilitators. Expanding this network, introducing audio-visual legal guidance in multiple languages, and ensuring assisted access points in public institutions would strengthen the inclusiveness of digital legal aid.

At the grassroots level, institutions like Gram Nyayalayas and Nari Adalats quietly perform some of the most meaningful work in making justice approachable. Gram Nyayalayas bring simple civil and criminal matters closer to village communities, reducing travel time and cost. Nari Adalats—women-led mediation forums—play a crucial role in cases involving domestic violence, marital disputes and gender-based conflict. Their approach is empathetic, local and non-intimidating, offering many women their first real experience of seeking redress. When linked effectively with formal legal services and trained counsellors, these forums can transform the justice landscape for vulnerable groups. They deserve stronger support, better training, and formal integration with district legal aid systems.

As India reflects on National Legal Services Day, the pathway ahead becomes clear. The country has built a legal aid machinery of extraordinary scale. But scale is not the same as strength. The future must prioritise quality assurance, regular training for lawyers and volunteers, independent monitoring of settlements, deeper integration of technology with community-based services, and sustained investment in grassroots justice institutions. 

India has accomplished the difficult task of creating one of the world’s largest legal aid networks. The next task is far more subtle, and far more important: ensuring that every citizen who turns to this system believes they will be heard, understood and treated fairly. Only then will access to justice become an everyday reality rather than an annual aspiration.

The writer is a Delhi-based legal affairs commentator and columnist. She writes on law, governance, and institutional reform.